Meanwhile that Heaven-sent nobleman, with a manner enshrouded in mystery, was comforting his wife.
“Ah, do not grieve, mine Alicia! No doubt ze Duke vill be disappointed not to see us to-night, but I have telegraphed. Ja, I have said I had so important an affair. Ach, do not veep! I did not know you wanted so moch to dine mit ze old Duke. I sopposed you vould like a quiet evening at home. But anyhow I have now telegraphed--and my leetle dinner mit my friend--Ach, it is so important zat I most rosh and get dressed. Cheer up, my loff! Good-by!”
He paused in answer to a tearful question.
“His name? Alas, I have promised not to say. You vould not have a European war by my indiscretion?”
With mirrors reflecting a myriad lights, with the hum of voices, the rustle of satin and lace, the hurrying steps of waiters, the bubbling of laughter, of life, and of wine--all these on each side of them, and a plate, a foaming glass, and a friend in front, the Baron and his host smiled radiantly down upon less favored mortals.
“Tulliwuddle is very late,” said Essington; “but he's a devilish casual gentleman in all matters.”
“I am selfish enoff to hope he vill not gom at all!” exclaimed the Baron.
“Unfortunately he has had the doubtful taste to conceive a curiously high opinion of myself. I am afraid he won't desert us. But I don't propose that we shall suffer for his slackness. Bring the fish, waiter.”
The Baron was happy; and that is to say that his laughter re-echoed from the shining mirrors, his tongue was loosed, his heart expanded, his glass seemed ever empty.
“Ach, how to make zis joie de vivre to last beyond to-night!” he cried. “May ze Teufel fly off mit of offeecial duties and receptions and--and even mit my vife for a few days.”
“To Alicia!” cried the Baron hastily, draining his glass at the toast. “But some fun first!”
“'I could not love thee, dear, so well, Loved I not humor more!'”
misquoted his host gaily. “Ah!” he added, “here comes Tulliwuddle.”
A young man, with his hands in his pockets and an eyeglass in his eye, strolled up to their table.
“I'm beastly sorry for being so late,” said he; “but I'm hanged if I could make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilled shirt-fronts. It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. What do you say?”